Nelson was perched on a stool by the fire, cradling his bandaged hand to his chest. ‘Can’t afford to miss any more wages.’
The house had only two rooms – one downstairs, and one above. It shared three out of four walls with other homes, and the brickwork was thin so that the soft murmur of other families could be heard all the time. There was something peaceful about the sound, though Nelson often said crying babies and arguing neighbours made such a racket he couldn’t sleep.
‘How’s your hand?’
‘Ah, he was so tough when the doctor came,’ said Nelson’s grandmother. ‘My brave boy.’
‘Gran!’ Nelson rolled his eyes, embarrassed.
‘I brought you something.’ Tig handed him one of the oranges the fruit-sellers had given her.
He grinned. ‘Amazing! Thank you!’
‘For being such a brave boy,’ Tig added with a wink.
Nelson’s grandmother took a jug down from a high shelf. ‘I’m going to get your uncle’s beer – he’ll be home soon.’
‘We’ll go,’ said Nelson. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’
‘Course not.’ Tig put her hand out for the beer jug.
‘Well, if you’re sure, I’ll head up to bed. Don’t dilly-dally, though. Goodnight, children,’ said Gran, hauling herself up the narrow, uneven stairs with great difficulty.
‘Night night.’
They set off into the street. Tig tried to breathe through her mouth to avoid the awful smell, but there was no escaping it.
‘I’m really sorry you got hurt,’ she said, unable to look Nelson in the eye.
‘It’s not your fault,’ said Nelson. ‘If Gus had just done his job, I wouldn’t have been sawing wood in the first place.’
Guilt twisted her insides. ‘Actually, it was my fault. I sent Gus out to buy paint.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Nelson. He looked hurt for a moment, then pulled together a smile. ‘Well, you were just doing your job…’
‘Ugh.’ They crossed the road, hopping over a filthy puddle beside the kerb. ‘No. I lied and made up a reason to get him out of the workshop.’
‘What? Why?’
She stared at his injured hand. The bandage was wrapped so thickly around it that it looked like he was wearing mittens. ‘Euphonia made another prediction.’
They stepped into the gutter to make room for a man pushing a coffee cart.
‘She said that someone would get hurt in the workshop at three o’clock. Gus was the only one in there, so I thought if I could get rid of him before three o’clock, it wouldn’t happen.’
‘Oh, right.’ Nelson held his bandaged hand to his chest. ‘Why didn’t you warn me?’
‘I didn’t know you’d come in and take over. I’m sorry.’ Sorry didn’t seem like a strong enough word. She wished she had been the one hurt instead. ‘Faber told me not to interfere. But I couldn’t do nothing.’ She hopped over a puddle that was forming around a cracked flagstone.
Nelson furrowed his brow and looked down at his feet, deep in thought. ‘How did we get mixed up in all this ghoulish stuff?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘A few days ago all I was thinking about was what kind of meat pie to get on payday. That’s the world I want to live in. Not this one with ghosts and machines and predictions.’
They walked in silence for a few hundred paces, then Tig gasped. With everything that was going on, she hadn’t told him what had happened.
‘Someone came to buy fifty tickets for the music school, and Snell sent him away! Told him we were all sold out. That’s proof that he’s trying to ruin the theatre.’
‘Does Eliza know?’
‘I haven’t had chance to tell her yet. I chased the man down and sold the tickets anyway.’ They paused as a labourer carried a bag of coal across the pavement in front of them. ‘And Snell wasn’t happy when the house was full tonight.’
‘You got a full house? How?’
‘I papered it – gave away tickets.’
‘Snell’s going to kill you if he finds out.’
‘I know. But we’re all doomed anyway, if the theatre closes.’
Doomed. She looked down at Uncle Lumpy’s beer jug. Tig only had herself to look after. Nelson’s whole family would suffer if the Royale closed.
‘Well, we won’t let it,’ he said. We’ll make sure people flock to see the talking machine, so it makes loads of money. In fact, we can start tonight.’
As they got nearer to the beerhouse, they passed a few of Nelson’s neighbours on their way home. Everyone drank as much beer as they could afford around these parts – the water was often not very clean.
The beerhouse was really just a house. The main room had six or eight small round tables and each one was crowded with men. One or two women and a handful of children were present, but like Tig and Nelson they mostly waited with jugs to take drinks home. The sticky smell of old beer was a pleasant relief from the odours outside.
‘Blimey, Nelson!’ said a lanky boy in butcher’s overalls. ‘Been in a scrap?’ He pointed to Nelson’s bandaged hand.
‘No,’ said Nelson mysteriously. ‘It was a curse.’
‘Oh aye,’ said the boy. He leaned back against the wall with a smile and folded his arms. ‘Another Nelson story, eh? Come on, then, let’s hear it.’
‘I’ll tell you for a pickled egg,’ said Nelson.
‘You’re on,’ said the boy. He passed his jug over for the landlord to fill, ‘and an egg for the lad.’
‘Careful, Nelson,’ muttered Tig. ‘What are you going to say about Faber?’
‘Don’t worry,’ he whispered. ‘They’re just looking for a good story. No one expects the truth. Anyway, we said we was gonna chuck him a jolly, right?’
Most of the children in the queue, and a couple of men at the nearest tables, were already looking at Nelson – he clearly made a habit of sharing stories in exchange for snacks.
‘Is it a theatre story?’ said a small boy.
‘That’s right,’ said Nelson. ‘And do you know who’s at the theatre now?’
The child shook his head.
‘An inventor from far away across the seas.’
‘As far as China?’ said the boy.
‘Further,’ said Nelson. ‘And he’s brought with him a miraculous machine that talks with a human voice.’
‘Speak up!’ called someone from the back of the room.
Tig ordered Uncle Lumpy’s ale while Nelson climbed up onto a stool. He wove a tale about the machine predicting the future, and how he was cursed because he made fun of it.
‘I put my fingers in the machine’s mouth,’ said Nelson, holding up his bandaged hand. ‘And it bit them almost clean off!’ The men joined in, joking and encouraging him, while the children looked on in amazement.
In the midst of the noise, Tig looked around the room. People were still coming in and out and by the door she thought she saw – Gus?
The boy had his cap pulled low over his face, and stood with his hands in his pockets.
What was he doing here? He lived on the other side of town and besides, he was supposed to be on curtain duty.
Had he followed them? Tig pushed her way through the crowd of other patrons, but by the time she reached the open door there was no sign of him.
She got back to Nelson’s side just as he finished his tale. The landlord handed him a pickled egg, fished out of the huge jar of vinegar with his bare fingers.
‘Get your cap off, boy,’ said one of the men. He dropped a coin into Nelson’s cap and within a minute several of the drinkers had done the same, and Nelson was rewarded with four and half-pence for his tale.
‘That should get a few more of them in this week,’ he said as they began the walk back home.
‘I hope so,’ said Tig, looking over her shoulder for Gus’s shadow.
Exposition
Perhaps it was the satisfaction of getting a full house, or the relief at seeing Nelson wasn’t too badly hurt, but Tig slept we
ll that night, and deeply. She woke with a satisfied yawn and stretch.
Cold Annie was standing over her bed.
Tig yanked her fur-coat-blanket up to her face as if it could protect her from danger, then slowly relaxed. There was nothing to fear. Annie had been helping her.
‘What is it?’ asked Tig.
Annie turned and walked away, but disappeared before she reached the doorway. Tig dressed quickly and ran the length of the corridor, peering into each dressing room, but didn’t find the ghost. How strange. What could she be trying to say?
As Tig reached the turn in the stairs, Annie was waiting at the bottom. Long strands of hair framed her face, floating as if stirred by a gentle breeze. Tig was pleased to see her there. How quickly one could get used to the most peculiar happenings – it almost felt normal to be in the company of a ghost now. Annie felt familiar, as if Tig had known her for years.
Annie turned away as Tig drew near. She crossed the workshop, leaving no footprints behind in the sawdust, and went through the doorway to the stage.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.
Annie walked to the centre of the stage, as she must have done many times in life. She stopped by Euphonia and stared directly at Tig with her one good eye.
‘Euphonia,’ said Tig. ‘What about her? Do you know why she’s talking?’
Cold Annie nodded, then disappeared.
‘I don’t understand!’ Tig said to the empty air. She’d never had to solve a mystery before, and now there were mysteries everywhere, each one more baffling and frustrating than the last. It seemed as though she was getting nowhere.
But no, they had made progress. The full house last night, and Nelson’s story at the beerhouse were sure to boost ticket sales. She just needed to stay focused.
‘Knock knock.’ She tapped on Faber’s door.
‘There is no need to say the word “knock” as well as knocking,’ he said grumpily as he let her inside.
‘Good morning, professor. What about last night’s show, eh?’ Tig sat down opposite him at the table. ‘Full house!’
Faber smiled – actually smiled – and modestly looked down.
‘I heard them talking on the way out. They loved you,’ she continued. ‘They were all really impressed.’
She decided not to mention the fact that everyone was most excited about how peculiar and unnerving the whole thing was. Nor did she mention that half of the tickets had been given away for free. He was pleased with himself, and that was something to celebrate.
‘I got you a present,’ said Tig. ‘Close your eyes.’
‘I will not.’
‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re no fun?’
‘Yes,’ said Faber.
She took out the second orange she’d been given last night, and laid it triumphantly on the table.
‘What’s that for?’
‘It’s food,’ said Tig. ‘You eat it.’
‘I mean why—’
‘It’ll do you good. Stop you getting scurvy, or something.’
Faber ran his tongue over his teeth as if making sure they were all in place. He really was a strange and anxious man.
‘Come on, eat it. It’s delicious. And, it’s all wrapped up in its own skin, so you don’t need to worry about anyone touching it with their grubby hands.’
He reached out half-heartedly for the fruit, but then they were both distracted by a violent rapping at the door.
‘What now?’ demanded Faber as he yanked it open.
‘Rabbit!’ bellowed Mr Snell. ‘My office. Now.’
Tig felt like a bucket of cold water had been tipped over her head. The panic must have shown on her face because Faber silently followed them without being invited.
‘This doesn’t concern you, Mr Faber,’ said Snell, in his usual simpering tone used for performers and paying guests. ‘I can ask my sister to send some tea to your room, if you like.’
‘This is my assistant, therefore it is my concern.’ Faber spoke in a very matter-of-fact tone. Mr Snell looked flummoxed for a moment, then nodded and backed away.
In the office, Eliza sat in her armchair, chin resting on her hand. She looked serious, and concerned, which Tig found much more unsettling than Snell’s anger.
Snell marched around his desk and stood behind it. He liked to do that before issuing orders and scoldings, to remind everyone who was the boss.
‘Gus told me that you sent him out to pick up an order from Carter’s.’
‘I—’
‘And that there was no order, Miss Rabbit. The whole thing was a lie.’
‘It was… a misunderstanding,’ said Tig.
‘Do you think I need you to give orders? Do you want to run this theatre? Do you think you could do a better job?’
‘No, sir.’ She could definitely do a better job.
‘So I had one boy sent home, and another wandering the city for no reason! You wasted valuable hours of work, and therefore, you wasted money.’
This wasn’t a question so Tig just tried to look remorseful.
‘But that’s not the whole of it, is it?’ said Snell. ‘The money in the cash box is wrong. You’re stealing from us.’
‘No, I never!’ Tig looked from Eliza to Faber to see if they believed her. Faber’s expression was the same irritable one he always wore. Eliza shook her head sadly. ‘I would never do that.’
‘We had a full house last night. Saw it with my own eyes,’ said Snell. ‘Yet when my good sister counted up the cash box, we were thirteen shillings short.’
‘Oh, Tig, pet, what have you done?’ said Eliza, in a kind voice that cut like a knife. How could she think this of her?
‘I can explain,’ said Tig. ‘I didn’t steal anything. I gave away some tickets.’
‘What, love?’ said Eliza.
‘You can search my things, check my pockets, look!’ She turned out the pockets of her dress, dropping the contents onto Snell’s desk: a pencil and paper, a loose button, a length of string, a box of pins, a small screwdriver and a tin of matches. ‘I don’t have the money. I gave out some tickets for free, so more people would come.’
Eliza was softening at this, but Snell only looked more angry. She could guess why.
‘Giving away my property is stealing, Miss Rabbit,’ said Snell. ‘You’ve wasted all that income.’
‘I haven’t!’ Tig said indignantly. She turned to Eliza for support. ‘I haven’t. Most of the people with free tickets brought friends, who paid for theirs! If it wasn’t for the free tickets, we wouldn’t have sold half as many.’
Tig glanced over at Faber, trying to read his face. She couldn’t bear the thought of him considering her a thief.
‘That’s a fair point, Edgar,’ said Eliza.
‘Don’t you start taking her side.’
‘There were a lot of schoolboys in the audience last night.’ Tig looked Snell directly in the eyes as she said this. It was a gamble. She was giving away the fact that she knew he had turned down the sale, and that she had gone behind his back to sell the tickets anyway. She’d already accused him of trying to sabotage the theatre, so she threw caution to the wind – in any case, there was no way he would dare admit what he’d been up to, not in front of Eliza. ‘That’s good news, isn’t it, Mr Snell?’ she said sweetly. ‘That schoolmaster bought all those tickets – it made us eighteen shillings in one go.’
Snell stared back at her, face red and sweaty, nostrils flared. Tig kept her chin up and stared back defiantly.
‘I’ve long had my doubts about you. I should have trusted my judgement. Eliza may be sentimental, but I am concerned only with business. I have no choice but to let you go.’
‘But, Mr Snell, please—’ This couldn’t be happening. She was trying to help! Trying to save Gus an injury! Trying to save the theatre! And now she was going to be sent away from the place she loved so much. She was going to be penniless – homeless. She was going to have to work in a mill, if she was lucky enough not to si
mply end up on the streets.
‘No.’ Faber stepped forward.
Snell’s eyes widened. ‘With respect, Mr Faber, I have a business to run. I’m sure you would do the same in my position.’
‘Eliza, please,’ begged Tig.
‘I don’t know what to do with you any more, pet. Your behaviour has been so unpredictable lately…’ She sighed, then leaned forward. ‘I’ve been very patient with you, because of your family situation. But this has gone beyond what I can accept. Someone got hurt, Tig. This is serious.’
‘You don’t understand, I was trying to stop someone getting hurt. I can’t explain. You need to trust me.’ Her voice shook with the effort of staying calm. She tucked her hands under her armpits, trying to physically hold her feelings inside.
‘And giving out those tickets, that wasn’t your place.’
‘But it worked!’
‘You should have asked.’
‘I would’ve asked, but you never listen to me!’
Eliza put her hand to her chest in surprise. Tig was too worked up to care about hurting the woman’s feelings. This was stupid. Because she was just twelve, just a stagehand, just a girl she was expected to obey the grown-ups in charge, even when the grown-ups were wrong.
‘Out of kindness,’ said Snell, ‘I will let you sleep here tonight, and you can find somewhere else to go in the morning.’
No. No no no no no.
‘I cannot be without my assistant.’ Faber folded his arms.
‘I assure you, the boys will step up and assist you.’
‘No. It must be this girl. She knows how to care for the machine.’
‘Miss Rabbit has caused no end of trouble with her actions.’ Mr Snell was beginning to raise his voice.
‘She said it was a misunderstanding. Is that not enough?’ demanded Faber.
‘I can’t afford to pay someone to cause misunderstandings.’
‘Then I will pay for her.’ He reached into his pocket and flung a handful of coins onto the desk. Tig followed a shilling with her eyes as it rolled off the table and circled round and round on the floor. ‘I can’t imagine you pay her more than that. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you treat her. I’ve seen where she sleeps.’
The Incredible Talking Machine Page 12